Chicken Soup for the Bohemian Soul
by LeapOfFaith29
Summary: A bunch of oneshots, all contained in a chicken soup book of my creation. All the bohemians have stories to tell in this heart warming story. Mostly PreRENT. Pairings: Sooo many OC's! I couldn't name them all. Rated M to be safe.
1. Table of Contents

A/N: Hey everybody! So basically, I was laying in bed one night, reading Chicken Soup for the Teen's Soul, when I thought about how the bohemians might send some stories to Chicken Soup! If you don't know what the books are, they're basically books of stories people send to the authors about hard stuff in their life, or friendships, or any category. Then, the books are published. Each bohemian will have a story to tell, including Benny, although I don't know if he counts as a bohemian but…whatever. R&R! It would be great if you told me in your review which stories you're looking forward to the most! And I know there aren't a lot of categories, but I did the math, and I have 24 stories, so don't be too critical on that. On with the story (stories)!

Disclaimer: Do not own RENT or Chicken Soup for the Soul books. Please don't sue me!

**Table of Contents**

**1. On Friendship**

My Very Best Friend _Mark Cohen_

The Weird Kid _Roger Davis_

Can I Play With You? _Benjamin Coffin III _

You're So Annoying…I Like You _Maureen Johnson_

The Best Dancer _Mimi Marquez_

That Girl _Joanne Jefferson_

I Don't Care _Angel Dummott Schunard _

You're Not My Friend _Thomas .B. Collins_

**2. On Family**

The Perfect Angel _Angel Dummott Schunard _

Leave Him Alone _Mark Cohen_

Rick's Present _Roger Davis_

Money Isn't Everything _Benjamin Coffin III_

Daddy, Are We Poor? _Mimi Marquez_

Little Lucy _Maureen Johnson_

Coming Out _Thomas .B. Collins_

What I'm Thankful For _Joanne Jefferson_

**3. On Love**

My First Kiss _Maureen Johnson_

Spin the Bottle _Joanne Jefferson_

Tim the Cheater _Thomas .B. Collins_

All Alone _Mark Cohen_

The Thought of Him Saved My Life _Angel Dummott Schunard_

Mistletoe _Benjamin Coffin III_

The Princess in the Book _Mimi Marquez_

That Wasn't Love _Roger Davis_

**4. On Tough Stuff**

The Divorce _Mimi Marquez_

A Football Player? I Think Not _Angel Dummott Schunard_

Mr. Ray _Maureen Johnson_

Why Are Funerals Black? _Joanne Jefferson _

I Wish I Paid Attention in CPR Class _Mark Cohen_

Just Say No _Thomas .B. Collins_

The Drunk Driver _Benjamin Coffin III_

Goodbye Dad _Roger Davis_


	2. My Very Best Friend

A/N: Mark's story! Woohoo! R&R, and you get a magic cookie with M&M's!

**On Friendship: My Very Best Friend**

"Mark! We're going to be late!" screamed my mother.

"I'm coming!" I yelled back. We were on our way to my first day of elementary school. I was actually going into second grade because the teachers thought I was smart. I guess I kinda was. I always thought the work in kindergarten was too easy. I was thrilled about getting to go to second grade before all my other friends! Well, I didn't really have any other friends. And I was a little scared about everyone being older than me. But at least I could try to make friends. It was a little hard for me before because I was smaller than everyone else. But now I was going to be even smaller than everyone else! Oh no! What was I doing?

"Marcus Cohen! You better get here on the count of three or no TV after dinner tonight! One…Two…" I skidded beside my mother. I hated missing TV after dinner.

"Good boy. Now get in the car," she said. "Cindy has been ready longer than you."

Cindy is my older sister. She was going into fifth grade! That was really old. She was 11 years old!

I got in the car next to Cindy. My teacher this year was named Mr. Bell. Cindy had him too.

"Cindy, what is Mr. Bell like?" I asked straightening my glasses.

"Oh, he was awful. He was so mean to everyone. I remember he used to breathe down our necks while we took tests. And if we didn't spell our names right, he would give us time-out. Some kids say that he liked to eat kid's brains. He wants our smartness. But I never let him get hands on my brain. There was this kid named Reggie, and one day, he was chewin' gum in class, and Mr. Bell told him to spit it out. But when he went over to the trash can, he saw little kids heads in there!"

I screamed.

"Oh yes Mark, little kid heads! And there was nothing in them. No brains!" she rolled her eyes back in her head and stuck her tongue out like she was dead.

"Ahh! No! Cindy!" I screamed. My mother got into the car.

"Cindy stop scaring your brother!"

"Sorry mommy," said Cindy with an innocent look on her face. I was so scared. More scared than I was before. We pulled out of the driveway.

"Wait, Mom! I forgot something!" I said. I ran out of the car, up the steps, through the front door, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. I grabbed my scarf and held it close to my heart. It made me feel better. I heard my mother honk the horn. I ran downstairs with my scarf and into the car.

"Aw, little baby Marky wants his scarfy!" mimicked Cindy. "Poor baby!"

"I'm not a baby," I mumbled. Cindy made fun of me and my scarf the whole ride to the school. My mother occasionally asked her to stop, but Cindy just said she was sorry and started again. I wish my mother had done something more about. I didn't argue because I knew it would be no use.

I had had my scarf ever since I was a baby in a crib. My Mommy and Daddy gave it to me to stop me from crying at night. Ever since then, I wouldn't even let my mother wash it. I was afraid it would get ruined in the wash.

We finally got to school, and my mother insisted bringing me and my sister to our rooms.

"Oh come on Mom! I'm not a baby like Mark! I'm eleven years old! I can get to room 525 myself!" complained Cindy.

"Oh, alright, but I'm bringing Mark to his room." I had absolutely no problem with this. My mom could protect me from the bullies.

"Here we are room 600," she said. "Have a nice first day sweetie."

"You're not coming in with me?" I asked.

"Oh no honey. I'm sure you'll be just fine," she said. Then she briskly walked away.

'Well,' I thought. 'Here goes nothing.' I took a deep breath. I squeezed my scarf. I opened the door to a room with about 18 kids running around. I slowly walked in, and a big man who didn't look scary at all said, "Hi. I'm Mr. Bell. You must be Marcus Cohen!"

"Um, it's Mark. And are you sure you're Mr. Bell?" I asked uncertainly.

"Well of course I am! If I remember correctly, I also had your sister, Cindy?"

"Yes, you did," I said.

"Oh, that girl was defiantly interesting. She did give me a hard time."

"Really?" I asked.

"Oh yes. Never could sit still, that one," he replied smiling. I smiled back. I was relieved.

"I know we'll have fun this year Mark!" he said.

"Me too," I replied. Then he walked away to talk to some other parents. The parents looked very friendly, and were accompanied by a long haired, blonde, greasy haired kid with a shirt with a guitar on it, and plaid pants. I exhaled deeply. If I was gonna make friends, I was gonna start now. I wrapped my scarf around my neck, adjusted my glasses, and walked up to him. I said, "Hi, um. My name's Mark."

"Hey, I'm Roger," he replied. There was an awkward silence. He walked away from me and started talking to this other kid. I sighed. Oh well, I tried. I sat, and wondered if I would ever make a friend. Soon, the parents were all gone, and everybody was sitting down, listening to Mr. Bell talk. He told us that we would learn about numbers and reading and the world this year. He said we would all be friends. That made me happy.

Then, he said we would play a game. We all stood in a circle. He put on some music, and told us to walk to he left, while staying in the circle. When the music stopped, we would talk to whoever was across from us about our lives and our names and all that junk. We walked what seemed like forever, and then the music stopped. I looked across from me, and there was that boy I had talked to earlier. Everyone sat down with their partner. He and I sat at the coloring table. He said, "Hi. I talked to you before right?"

"Ya, I'm Mark. Remember?"

"Ya, I'm Roger."

"Oh, ya." I said.

"Well, I'll start. I'm Roger Michael Davis, I'm 7 years old, I had Mr. Bell last year cuz I got held back, I like to play my cool guitar, play with my dog, and play catch with my brother Trevor." He had obviously done this before. He seemed so cool!

"Well, I'm Mark Dean Cohen, I just turned 6 years old, I like to take pictures of stuff, and this is my favorite scarf. I carry it around all the time so I don't get scared." Oh no! Did I just tell this cool guy about how I carry around my scarf all the time? He's gonna think I'm a baby!

"Sorry about that last part," I said. "I hope you don't think I'm a baby." I blushed. "My sister thinks so." 'Stupid stupid stupid Mark!' I thought. This was my last chance at getting a friend and I blew it!

Then, Roger Davis said something I never thought I would hear from anyone.

"I don't think you're a baby," he said. "And can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure," I said astonished.

He pointed to his pants. "I never take these off," he whispered. We both giggled. I knew from then on, that Roger Davis would be my very best friend.

- _Mark Cohen_


End file.
